


somebody that i used to know

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [33]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Freddie hears from Martin Adjaye and he and Ephram try to work on a plan of how to stave off the vampire's intentions -- only to be sidetracked by their own relationship issues.
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	somebody that i used to know

**Author's Note:**

> >   
> Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

The text comes in at around midnight on a weeknight. It only says two words, small and seemingly simple and almost plaintive in its request: 

[TXT] _help me_

Freddie didn’t hear the text when it arrived, his mobile forgotten on the table in the living room as he and Ephram had gone on about their evening - and at midnight, as they lay in bed, cuddled up and chatting back and forth, laughing sleepily at whatever rubbish was on the television, the outside world was so far removed from the fairy’s current state of contentment, that his ability to be reached by it wasn’t even so much as a consideration.

His world was quite full as it was.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten up the next morning and sent his husband off to work with a belly full of breakfast, a packed lunch, and a lingering series of kisses, that he noticed his phone as he passed the coffee table on his way back up to bed, Ollie at his side. He picked it up, idly checking to see how close it was to death and if he’d missed anything pertinent or interesting in their time apart - but the instant he saw that number, he stopped where he was, his heart thumping in his chest, blood like ice.

His first ridiculous thought was that he’d gotten rid of the phone that that number had known. And then common sense had kicked in, and he’d felt like an idiot. After all, when had little things like what was possible ever mattered to Martin Adjaye?

Freddie just stared at the text, whilst Ollie stared up at him - the little Chin agitated, barking sharply to get his fairy’s attention as his efforts at internal prodding had garnered no response - and finally, Freddie gave himself a shake and looked down at his friend, murmuring, “Sorry, mate. Look.” He sat down on the sofa, Ollie hopping up beside him, and held out the phone so that his familiar could read it - which Oliver did, growling softly as he too recognised both the number, and the feelings in his fairy that Martin Adjaye provoked.

Ollie’s immediate advice was to text Ephram, which Freddie was already in the process of doing by the time his familair had articulated the thought -

**[TXT] Martin’s texted me. Maybe? It’s Martin’s number, at least. He’s asking for help of some sort. It doesn’t sound like him. I haven’t responded.  
** **[TXT] I’m heading to the inn now to show Iann. Maybe he’s got something similar.  
** **[TXT] Text me or call me when you can, love. Or maybe I’ll come to you, if you’re not busy?  
** **[TXT] I love you.**

\- and then to do the same with Iann; but the fairy shook his head no. “We’ll just go down there,” he said, his own nervous agitation showing in his eyes and the timbre of his voice, “Get him out of bed, yeah?” And Ollie gave a snuff of agreement and support as Freddie scooped him up and they headed for the stairs.

Showered and dressed in record time - he refused to go to pieces like a ninny over this; he fucking _refused_ \- Freddie called his usual car service, and then went out front to wait for it; unable to settle inside, feeling like he needed fresh air and sunlight, the weight of Martin’s sudden reappearance in his life making him feel claustrophobic, even in the home that he loved.

And he wouldn’t have that. He wouldn’t allow Martin there.

Even if it was only 6 letters worth of him.

It was a wind up, Freddie thought. Another one. It had to be. Just like the photo he’d sent after Freddie and Iann had returned from their trip last year. It was another one of his games. Some effort to torment Freddie simply because he _could_. Because he was bored and had nothing but time now; and because he found this sort of mindfuckery amusing.

Martin didn’t actually need _help_ \- that much was a given. Martin had never needed help from anyone. He gave orders; to lackeys and thralls, to his goons and his business associates; and those orders were followed. He paid for loyalty and for service - but that wasn’t the same thing as _help_.

And this text… it was just a pitiful plea, wasn’t it? To _Freddie_. So obviously it couldn’t be taken in earnest.

Martin couldn’t need help from him. The only thing he’d ever been good for in Martin’s eyes, the vampire had _taken_ \- so he certainly wouldn’t be lessening himself to come to Freddie with his hand out now.

It was a wind up. A mockery of some sort. Or maybe Iann was right, and it wasn’t even Martin at all. Which, obviously, brought with it its own set of problems…

Freddie sighed, and scrubbed his hands over his face. He honestly didn’t know which option was worse.

Either way though, he needed other opinions. Ephram’s. Iann’s. He needed someone who could see things more clearly than he could to tell him what to do. He needed perspective.

The sooner the bloody better, preferably. Before another flaming text came in.

\---

**[TXT] I love you.**

That was the text that hit hardest, for some reason. Ephram’s hackles had gone up when he saw Martin’s name, yeah, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t habitually send i-love-yous over text, but this one had a different feel to it. 

A ‘just in case’ kind of feel.

And Ephram, thinking in terror what it would be like if Freddie was taken from him, fumbled his phone so much trying to respond that he dropped it twice, cracking a corner of the glass. He didn’t care – Bellamy would find him a new rose gold iPhone if he even just hinted at it – the fall was just more time wasted before he could ascertain for himself that Freddie was alive and well.

TXT: stay where u are

TXT: coming to the inn now. keep phone near.

TXT: i love you

It physically hurt to type the last text, a knot tightening itself in Ephram’s chest. Of course Martin Adjaye would turn up now, and of course he’d be preying on Freddie’s tender-heartedness instead of presenting himself a threat. The old bastard.

Pausing to tell Ruby that he’d be out of the office for the rest of the day (and no more than that, which wasn’t unusual so Ruby took it in stride and promised to get in touch for anything huge) Ephram sprinted out to the jeep and tore out of the parking lot, headed for the Stonefruit. His mind was filled with so many speculations and contingency plans that he barely noticed how fast he’d eaten up the distance, though the screeching siren might have had something to do with that.

Freddie was already sat in Iann’s tiny flat when Ephram’s texts came in, and despite the jolt of dread that shot through him at the chime - almost afraid to look at the message for fear of who it might be from - when he saw that it was Ephram he let out the breath he’d caught, a wave of warm comforting relief washing over him at the sight of his husband’s words. At the knowledge that Ephram was coming. And Freddie responded quickly, nimble fingers flying over the screen.

“Ephram’s on his way,” Freddie said, looking up at Iann. “He’ll be here soon.”

— — —

Ephram burst into the inn, startling Pixi so much she gave a little shriek. He must look wild-eyed and frantic, Ephram realized, and forced himself to calm down as much as he could. “Freddie here?” he asked, voice tense.

“I…” Pixi started, just gaping at Sheriff Pettaline for a moment, still trying to process his obvious agitation and tightly coiled tension, unused to anything but laconic and easy Southern charm from Freddie’s husband. “…I don’t know,” she said finally, “I just got here, Sheriff; I’m sorry.” And she was. She liked Ephram, and he was clearly very worried about something.

“I mean, he’s normally not here for hours yet,” Pixi went on, “-but if he told you he’s here, then he must be.” She gave Ephram a small smile. “I’ll text him, okay? And I’ll call up to Iann’s too. I mean, chances are, if Freddie’s here this early, they’re probably together.”

Pixi took out her phone, but before she had a chance to do much of anything with it, the lift doors opened and Freddie and Ollie stepped out; the fairy already speaking. “Pix,” he said, “-has Ephram-” but he cut himself off as soon as he saw his witch standing there, a grateful smile blooming on his face as he closed the distance between them, his first instinct to wrap his arms around Ephram’s middle and hug him tightly, resting his head against his husband’s chest.

Freddie listened to the beat of his darling’s heart for a few moments, then reluctantly let him go again, taking his hand instead. “Never mind,” he said, to Pixi, giving her his best approximation of a chuckle. “Can I get the key to the Garden suite please though, love?” he asked, “We just need a bit of privacy, and I know no-one’s checking in there until tonight.” 

Pixi, not at all convinced by Freddie’s smile (she’d seen the Sheriff’s eyes when he’d careened in), just eyed her boss for a moment in concern, then nodded, murmuring, “Yeah… yeah, of course, Freddie,” before handing over the key. “Here you go.” 

And Freddie took it, the smile he offered this time still small, but genuine, and as reassuring as he could manage. “Thanks, Pix,” he said, “You’re a star,” and then he led Ephram into the elevator, Ollie only a half-step behind them.

“Thanks, Pixi,” Ephram murmured against Freddie’s hair, able to attend to normal basic human interaction now that he had his fairy safe in his arms, then holding his hand.

The Garden Suite was lovely, of course, but Ephram was too distracted to notice any of its decorative virtue considering what he was there for. Drawing Freddie to sit down on the bed so they could still hold hands (the memory of that terrible winter was unsettlingly close to the top, now, how it had felt to prepare to have Freddie taken away and dispensed of in whatever fashion Martin Adjaye preferred), Ephram said, “It ain’t gonna be like last time, baby. Not again.”

Last time they’d been helpless. Last time all they could do was wait it out, running and hiding and wondering what was in store. That wasn’t going to happen again, not if Ephram could help it.

“No,” Freddie said softly, but firmly, pulling a measure of strength and calm just from having Ephram close enough to touch, “-it isn’t.” He leaned a bit on his husband and returned the squeeze of his hand when it came. “I’m never going to be at his mercy like that ever again.”

He was still frightened, of course - any encroachment by Martin into his life was always going to scare him; he’d learned his lesson very well in Budapest and it would never leave him - but with Ephram beside him, close and comforting, emanating warm love and quiet determination, Freddie knew that, whatever this was, whatever Martin intended, his days of being a chess piece to be moved at the vampire’s leisure were through.

He was stronger now than he had been before. Ephram had made him stronger. They’d been through so much together; their love for one another only growing and evolving with the passage of time… and his darling was absolutely right - it would _not_ be like last time.

Not again.

Squeezing Freddie’s hand, Ephram asked, “Adjaye didn’t manage to make himself immortal last time, right? So what woulda happened to him?” Without consciously thinking about it, Ephram moved his free hand to Freddie’s abdomen, as if he could feel the sugarplum seed in there growing or glowing or giving some sort of sign that it was present. The question was obvious: could a sugarplum seed have the same draw for Martin as a Bvlgari Blue diamond?

The fairy couldn’t help but sigh when Ephram sought confirmation that Martin’s bid for genuine immortality had failed, and he covered the large hand that came to rest on his stomach with his own free one. “He did though, love,” he said, “I mean… as far as we know, he did. I wasn’t conscious, and Iann says he didn’t hang about for the aftermath, just got us out of there… but Martin did the ritual properly as far as Iann could tell, so if he’s alive, it’s worked.”

“I say _if_ ,” Freddie added, “-because apparently that particular bit of magic has a history of killing nearly everyone who attempts it - only the very strong come out successful on the other side - at least, according to whatever dusty old tomes Iann was looking in. But ‘very strong’ is a bit of an understatement where Martin’s concerned, so my money’s on his having won the day.”

“It would have damaged him though,” the fairy continued, “-that much, Iann’s pretty certain about. He thinks he’s probably a husk somewhere - weakened and withered for the next however many hundred years; getting stronger again in glacial increments - if at all. And since neither of us have actually _seen_ him since that night - that’s as reasonable a theory as any.”

Freddie sighed again, frustrated and overwrought. “Which, of course, doesn’t explain a bloody thing about what he wants with _me_ again.”

He moved back on the bed, pulling Ephram with him and laying down; wrapping himself up in his witch. “Boredom maybe,” he mused, a bitter edge to his voice, “Being a bastard for its own sake? Though begging for help in the middle of the night isn’t something he would ever even have _entertained_ before - not for a mindfuck or anything else. His ego would never have allowed it…”

“So maybe Iann’s right,” Freddie said, “-maybe it’s somebody else - pretending to be him. But, honestly, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He rolled over in Ephram’s arms so that they were face to face, and stroked his husband’s cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, “I honestly thought we were done with my mess.”

“Dammit,” Ephram scowled when Freddie explained the more likely fate of Martin Adjaye and the wand’s completion of its task. “Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but I kinda sorter wish teenage-you had a taste for weak, cowardly men.” Ones who wouldn’t have a chance of pulling through when it came to a highly chancy ritual, flush with the possibility of destruction instead of life at its end.

What was most frustrating here, Ephram noted to himself with a wave of regret, was that he was pretty much firmly in the dark. It had been Iann who accompanied Freddie when it came to Adjaye, the Bvlgari, the sugarplum; Ephram had been … what? Focused on getting as much of Freddie as he could, instead of paying closer scrutiny to what was happening and how serious it was and would be. And as much as Freddie had explained the whole thing to Ephram, it was still nothing like being involved from the get-go.

Okay. So that meant he had some ground to make up for. He could do that.

Lying down with his fairy, Ephram pondered the possibilities that Freddie was throwing out for consideration, right up until the apology. “Oh, Freddie, honey,” he murmured, taking Freddie’s hand and kissing it. “Don’t you apologize for nothin’. I been bringing you my mess since second time we met, so I’d say we’re even on that count. More than.”

Lips lingering on Freddie’s fingers, Ephram mused, “Being a husk, having your big plan almost fucked over by not just the boy you used as a tool–” he gave Freddie’s hand an apologetic kiss, “–but also a _human_ , that’s like to do a number on anybody’s pride, I reckon. And who would know he stooped so low as to send a fake-out cry for help? Only you. Might be worth it for getting his miserable hands on you again, baby.”

Freddie might, but Ephram didn’t put any behaviour no matter how low and craven beyond Adjaye. Sure, the man was an arrogant bastard from all Ephram had heard, but more than that he was the kind of fucker who wanted his way above all else. And if that meant a fake help message sent to Freddie, that was what it might take.

Freddie let out a wry sort of chuckle when Ephram told him that he wished the fairy had had slightly different taste in men when he’d been younger, reaching out to drag his fingers through his witch’s messy blond hair. “Sorry, darling,” he murmured, “I’m afraid weak cowardly men have never been my style.”

He did notice the shadow of… something, that passed through Ephram’s eyes though, and he made up his mind to return to it as soon as the conversation allowed. But by the time they’d laid down, Freddie knew the subject would have to be doubled-back to.

“I know,” he nodded, wearing a soft rueful smile as Ephram kissed gently at his fingers, his husband doing his level best to chase away any guilt Freddie might carry over the introduction of new struggles into their lives. And he sighed as Ephram went on to muse over Martin’s possible motivations for reaching out the way that he had - if indeed he’d been the one to do it. “…and I know that too. _Intellectually_ , I know it.”

“Because, I don’t really know _him_ at all, do I?” 

Freddie sighed again - at his own naiveté when he was young; at the faulty quality of his memories and impressions, and his continued knee-jerk propensity to rely on them. “I never did. Nothing he ever told me was the truth. And if he was willing to suffer the constant assault on his pride that pretending to love me must have been, then why should something like a request for help - a _text_ \- give him any sort of pause at all?”

“But even bearing that in mind,” Freddie went on, incredulity in his voice, fingers stroking Ephram’s cheek, “- _why_? I mean, why do it at all? I’m not even a useful tool anymore. I _literally_ haven’t got anything for him.” The fairy rolled his eyes, huffing, “Unless he stuffed me full of more diamonds than we’d thought. But Iann’s been in there up to the elbow _twice_ now, and I’m fairly certain he would have noticed if my insides glittered like a treasure chest.”

Then Freddie paused, looking at Ephram carefully, a soft sort of concern in his blue eyes. “Are you alright though, sweetheart?” he asked. “Really? Because I forgot to say it downstairs, but it means the world to me that you’re here now, love. I just…” the fairy trailed off, leaning in to brush his lips across his husband’s. “You always make me feel safe,” he said. “You’re the only one who knows how to do that.”

It made Ephram wince to hear Freddie talk like that about himself, about what might be argued to be one of the seminal relationships when it came to shaping his adult life and the way that he viewed his own worth as a person. That Adjaye would find the idea of loving this poor, besotted, vulnerable boy to be an _embarrassment_. 

That bastard couldn’t recognize a fucking treasure if it’d been shoved in his own cold dead organs.

The mention of Iann gunking around in Freddie’s viscera didn’t help Ephram’s mood either. It was a sore spot, that Cardero should have engaged in something so intimate (creepily, ghoulishly intimate) with his darling, and left behind that goddamn sugarplum seed to show he’d been there. But that didn’t bear examination at the moment; considering the sugarplum was keeping Freddie in good health, Ephram’s bad tempered view of it could really only be chalked up to a very unbecoming jealousy.

“You might have something for him that you ain’t thought of, honey.” Ephram smoothed Freddie’s hair back, cupping the point of his ear. “I mean, arrogant though Adjaye is, he must of had a contingency plan of some sort, even if it was just a lil kernel of one. If he managed to convince you that he had real feelings for you, then likely he managed to make it seem like pride was his weak spot. But cunning don’t give hogshit for pride.”

He was startled when Freddie inquired, so softly, after Ephram’s own state of mind. “Baby,” he said, “don’t you worry none bout me. I’m glad I could be here this time, can be of some help. Before – last time – I mean, all we could do was hide and keep moving and that didn’t sit right with me. I barely knew nothin’ bout what was really going on. It was all Cardero.”

Relieved that he’d kept most of the resentment from his voice, Ephram continued, “–this time, though, I’m gonna be at your side through it all. If Adjaye thinks he can come get you, he’ll find out you already belong to me. And we ain’t gonna just be waiting for him.” Ephram’s voice had gone steely, eyes cold and narrowed, but his expression softened when he focused back on his husband. “I’m gonna keep you safe, darlin,” he promised. “Every goddamn way that I can.”

Freddie’d noticed the way that Ephram had winced on his behalf, but he didn’t comment on it. The truth, however painful, was simply the truth - though he loved his husband fiercely for reacting the way that he did. 

And he noticed too the slight narrowing of Ephram’s eyes at the mention of Iann’s amateur surgical efforts - which, in its own way, had very much the same effect; making the fairy want to gather Ephram in closer; to hold him tighter and show him how very much it meant to him to be on the receiving end of his darling’s devotion.

Because Ephram’s possessiveness and protectiveness, when it arose, was something that Freddie welcomed. Flares of jealousy only ever made him feel loved and wanted - _needed_ \- and he moved his hand to the collar around his neck in response, letting the glamour that kept it out of sight fall as Ephram stroked his hair away from his face, that big calloused hand lingering at Freddie’s ear. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the fairy admitted quietly. “I mean, Iann’s promised me that there’s nothing in the reading where that wand’s concerned that indicates the fairy that did the incubating has any further role to play - but since most of those poor buggers _died_ , that isn’t exactly encouraging. And it doesn’t have any bearing at all on anything that Martin may have gotten into his head all on his own.”

“Because you’re right, love - I’ve got to get off this notion of his pride imposing any sort of limits, or giving him any directives, at all. If there’s something Martin wants, all the pride in the world won’t stop him getting it.” Freddie huffed out a humourless chuckle. “I mean, obviously, yeah?”

When Ephram told him not to worry though, about Ephram or whatever he might be feeling, Freddie opened his mouth to protest - only to shut it again as his witch went on, explaining how he’d felt the last time, and how he didn’t intend to allow history to repeat itself. Ephram’s eyes and voice brooked no argument - adamantine and resolute - before melting back to something warm enough for Freddie to wrap himself up in as he promised to keep the fairy safe. 

And Freddie rested his hand on his husband’s face again, stroking his Ephram’s cheekbone with his thumb, murmuring, “I know you will, sweetheart.”

“And I’m sorry for the way it was before, Ephram. I just… I wanted to keep you safe so badly… I didn’t want Martin anywhere near you, because I was certain he’d take you from me the instant that he saw how much I love you…” 

Freddie shook his head with a sigh. “But I shouldn’t have kept it all so separate from you. I won’t do that again. I’ll tell Iann that it isn’t just him and me this time,” the fairy said, “Whatever _I_ know, _you’ll_ know, love. This time we’ll be in it together, just like you said. Side by side, every step of the way.”

Freddie gave Ephram a small rueful smile. “And that means I need to catch you up,” he said, “-because Iann’s reached out to Suky Toddry, and I’m waiting on a reply from the Wawel Dragon. We need more information than we’ve got, and those two are our best hope of getting it.”

Freddie’s gentle gesture at his throat drew Ephram’s gaze, and the revealed sight of the shimmering green collar around his husband’s neck made warmth spread through his chest, soothing away the brambles of indignation over Adjaye and Cardero both messing around in his fairy’s body. 

Freddie hadn’t consented either of those times. But this, Ephram’s magical sign of possession, this Freddie treasured and had been fully aware of when it was placed around his neck. The thought of it made Ephram love him even harder.

“Even Cardero can’t know everything there is to know bout that wand,” Ephram pointed out, reasonably he thought. “It ain’t exactly a known quantity like other artifacts – who knows how much of a charge or effect it has, or if once you make it then it’s easier to re-make. There’s a world of possibility when it comes to these magic doo-dads and how you can change what they do depending on what components you put in em.” 

“No, that’s true,” Freddie sighed, knowing that Ephram was right; that even Iann, as well researched and read as he was, had no way of knowing for certain exactly the scope and capability - the _potentiality_ \- of what Martin had wrought when he’d finally put that bastarding wand together. “It’s just vaguely comforting to think otherwise. But you’re right,” the fairy added, a note of resignation having crept into his voice, “-it’s foolish to assume anything at this point. Especially any sort of security.”

The witch only nodded and pulled Freddie close for a kiss when the other man apologized for not folding him into the situation the last time Adjaye had been a threat, murmuring, “I understand. It was all so new then, too, none of us knew how to deal with the idea of losing each other. Seemed like the natural thing to do.” He shifted back slightly so he could look Freddie in his blue, blue eyes, saying, “But now, honey, there ain’t even a way we could keep things separate from each other, is there. Sure as hell not something big as this.”

Freddie opened his mouth to his husband’s soft kiss when it came; pulled closer still and held there as Ephram gifted him with his understanding of the decisions made the past. And when the witch shifted back again, just far enough to be able to look Freddie in the eye as he made the point that things were very very different now, the fairy nodded, aware that this too was true.

It had seemed impossible to Freddie before that he could ever feel any closer to Ephram than he had then; that they could twine together further, or find an even deeper connection than the one they’d already shared - but each passing day, each following trial they’d come through together, had only served, in Freddie’s eyes at least, to reward them with more of each other. A tighter tie; a deeper love and understanding.

“I know,” Freddie said softly, “And whether it’s selfish or not, I don’t _want_ you separate, love. I want you with me. Whatever comes.”

It really was impossible to conceive of at this point in their relationship. After all they’d been through together, leaving Freddie to face this danger alone was as likely as Ephram handing his husband over to the vampire outright.

…not to mention, it was fuckin’ good hearing Freddie promise to tell Iann it wasn’t just their special little twosome this time. Ephram didn’t intend to be left out of a goddamn thing.

“Okay,” he said in light of that resolution, “Suky Toddry is that fairy who was working for Adjaye? And Wawel Dragon is that old friend of yours with the name I never know how to pronounce. Why would the fairy help? And what’s the Dragon likely to know bout?”

“Toddry’s the fairy that knows Martin, yeah,” Freddie confirmed, “Though I honestly can’t say for certain she was ever working for him. _With_ him, most definitely - she’s the one that sent me and Iann to New York - but we never quite worked out how deeply involved in his plans she really was, or how much she was being manipulated.”

“She told us at the time that she wanted a petty little revenge on an erstwhile lover - and I never got the sense that that wasn’t at least partly true. But she clearly knew at least _something_ about Martin’s interest in me at that point, because she gave herself away once we’d got back again - more interested in the game than the prize. Plus, Martin’s thrall was sleazing about her place by then too,” the fairy added, wrinkling his nose at the memory of Maxwell Argent. “So Christ knows.”

“That was the last time we saw her though - until long after everything with the wand was done and dusted. It was her right-hand woman - the witch, Stellafa - that Martin turned, and we found out later that he’d cut off Toddry’s wing shortly thereafter; but we never managed to find out if that was all that had soured between them. I mean, it’s a safe bloody bet - Stellafa went mad after she’d been turned, and I presume Suky objected - but still, that sort of maiming is an extreme response to a fit of justified pique.”

“Suky Toddry’s not exactly the sort of woman most people want to cross,” Freddie said, “She’s where we got the sugarplums, yeah? And making an enemy of her, _humiliating_ her like that… it’s just bad business. So we’re hoping,” the fairy went on, “-that she’ll help for that reason alone. Word is, she bloody _hates_ him now, and is rather hoping he’s dead. On top of which, she’s always liked Iann and I.” The fairy gave Ephram a bit of a smirk. “She finds us, and our little soap opera cover, all sorts of entertaining.”

Then, smiling at his husband’s admission that he’d never yet been able to pronounce the Dragon’s name properly, Freddie nodded his head again. “Nacek,” he said, “-yeah. And to be honest, darling, I have no idea what he knows. If anything. But he and Martin are acquainted professionally, and Nacek’s got connections all over - particularly in Europe.” 

“And since that’s where Stellafa was last…” The fairy shrugged. “It may come to nothing, but even unconfirmed rumours are more telling than silence. What about you though, sweetheart? Have you or the Sheriff’s department ever come across any sort of wandcraft that might be even a little bit comparable?”

“We don’t get much call to deal with magical artifacts, to be honest.” Most of the cases that Ephram and the other officers were called out on were either direct altercations or peculiar Soapberry-ish happenings, so while their evidence locker might contain something like, say, a grapefruit with human teeth, there weren’t many wands or staves or staffs to be had. 

Suky Toddry sounded like a much more solid lead, and Ephram scraped his mind for whatever details he’d heard from Freddie in the past regarding the fairy. Mostly all he could recall was the ‘Peter and Tink’ show that Cardero and Freddie had put on, something which Ephram now realized he didn’t like very much. But in the long run, Freddie was a confidence man and Ephram would rather he be including Iann as his partner in his escapades than some unknown quantity, like this Dragon.

Cardero, for one, would never dare take things further with Freddie. Ephram didn’t know and didn’t care if Iann even _wanted_ to, so long as he didn’t.

“You got an ‘enemy of my enemy’ situation going on with Toddry, right. Sounds good.” Ephram stroked Freddie’s wings through his shirt, unconsciously feeling for the place where one of them had been fractured and spindled by Martin Adjaye in an act of torture and wondering how terrible it must have been for Suky Toddry. How excruciating it must have been for his poor Freddie, barely out of childhood.

That alone gave Ephram a small curl of sympathy for this fairy woman, and he felt his own for the unfortunate Stellafa. Losing connection with your magic was a well-founded fear for witches; even for one as weak as Ephram, he’d be tossed completely out of orbit if his connection to the earth was severed.

But Ephram’s ears pricked up when Freddie mentioned that Nacek had actual dealings with Adjaye, although Freddie took sure to say that it was a professional acquaintance. “How much of a working relationship do Nacek and Adjaye have? I mean, honey – that sounds the most suspicious out’ve all these threads to me. Maybe Adjaye found a price that appealed to this Nacek friend of yours.” Ephram cupped Freddie’s jaw, keeping his voice gentle to offset the hard sentiment of what he was about to say. “Could be Nacek is our weak link.”

Freddie made a soft noise without really meaning to as Ephram rubbed gently at his wings, and he nodded at his husband’s assessment of the situation with Suky Toddry, murmuring, “Well, that’s the hope, anyway. I mean, the bastard cut off her wing, so it stands to reason that her hatred of him is genuine…” The fairy shrugged a bit, huffing out a bit of a sigh. “But who bloody knows? History is a hard thing to get free of, and we have no sodding idea how two of them know one another… so it’s a cautious optimism, for now.”

When Ephram began to ask more specific questions about Nacek though, pointing out as kindly as possible that the nymph might very well be willing to trade Freddie to Martin for whatever price suited him in the moment, Freddie offered his witch a resigned rueful sort of smile. “I know, love,” he said, “I don’t have any illusions where Nacek’s concerned. I mean, he’s quite fond of me; we get on - but ultimately, Nacek is out for himself. And if the offer was good enough, he likely _would_ sell me out, yeah. But in this case, I don’t think that’s very likely - and I’ll tell you why.”

“Firstly,” Freddie said, “-to the best of my knowledge - and I have looked into it a few times over the years on the quiet - Nacek and Martin are professionally _aware_ of one another, without ever having actually _worked_ together. So there’s no real relationship there to build on or exploit. Secondly, we know that Martin’s been well aware of where I’ve been since the moment I left him, so Nacek’s never had any information even remotely worth trading. And thirdly,” the fairy shrugged again, his smile more matter of fact this time, “-I’m not exactly a negligible asset in a professional sense. And he likes to fuck me. So the benefit to fucking me _over_ would have to be rather special in order to make it worth his while.”

“I mean, obviously that kind of an offer isn’t impossible,” Freddie conceded, “-but Nacek honestly hasn’t got anything valuable to bring to the table where I’m concerned. Martin already knows where I am, he knows how to reach me, and he’s already been in a position to do what he likes with me more than once here in Soapberry.” Freddie raised a hand, covering Ephram’s with his own where it still rested on his jaw, and turned his face to press his lips to his sweetheart’s palm. “So I wouldn’t worry much about the Wawel Dragon, love,” he said. “He hasn’t got any sort of leverage.”

Ephram was silent for a while, somewhat longer than his usual sort of turning-things-over rumination time. His hand had stilled on Freddie’s wings although he didn’t remove it entirely, but his gaze disconnected for the length of his distraction.

When he finally came back to the here and now, it was with a hard swallow past a clenched jaw, his muscles tensed. “So this Nacek is an old friend, you'ns are … fond of each other, and he likes to ... _fuck you_? Freddie?” 

Saying it aloud was even worse than when he’d been sorting it all out in his head; Ephram felt a searing spur of jealousy go bitter up his throat and he made an involuntary sound of angry distress before sitting up on the bed and sliding to the edge of it so he could put his feet down. That helped to moor him, feeling the solid floor under his feet, and his hands dug into the mattress like claws.

“I know this ain’t the best time for this,” Ephram said, trying to keep his voice steady and calm instead of it raising in resentment, “what with Adjaye comin’ back into the picture and all. But Freddie–” he turned his head enough to see his husband out of the corner of one eye, “–Freddie, that ain’t fair to me. You’s the one made a rule that I can’t sleep with nobody I feel any sort of fondness for beyond fuckin’, but you can keep on getting it from the goddamn Wawel Dragon when you two are all friendly-like?”

Ephram shook his head, abashed. “I can’t believe this. After the fuckin’ fuss you made about Ash, when he was just some feller I met at his birthday party and only intended to hook up with, not become best friends. And all this time you been screwin’ Nacek like it ain’t no big deal for you to do the same thing you din’t want me to do. I mean, _Jesus_ , Freddie.”

Freddie felt Ephram’s mood shift the instant it happened, though he was a loss to understand at first what had caused it. But when the word ‘friend’ passed his husband’s lips a moment later, everything became clear - even if the way Ephram so quickly distanced himself hurt no less for it. And Freddie sat up too, despite not moving any further; not wanting to crowd his darling when the witch was so obviously angry.

And truth be told, under his hurt, Freddie was just a little bit angry too.

Maybe more than a little.

“ _Yes_ , Ephram,” he said, eyes flashing, “-he’s _fond_ of me. He knows next to nothing about me, has never had any sort of a meaningful conversation with me in his life, and would happily trade me to a _monster_ for the right price - but within that, _yes_ , he finds me a little bit charming in my way! We’re _friendly_ , Nacek and I - but we’ve never been _friends._ I’ve never _had_ a sodding friend before coming here, other than Ollie, and you bloody well _know_ it!”

“And no, it’s not a brilliant time for this, as a matter of fact! I’m _scared_ , Ephram - I’m fucking _terrified_ \- and it hurts to think that that matters less to you than telling me what a selfish arsehole I am for wanting to keep the one thing that matters more to me than anything else to myself. But so bloody be it, eh? Here we are!”

Ollie made a sudden sharp cautionary noise from his place across the room, warning Freddie that now _wasn’t_ the time, and then turning a stunned incredulous look to Ephram, but the fairy shook his head, holding up a hand in his familiar’s direction. “No,” he said to Oliver, his voice thick, “We’re doing it now,” before looking back to Ephram, wounded and stormy. “But I’m not going to apologise for asking you for what I did. I haven’t been a hypocrite, Ephram. Because I don’t _feel_ anything for Nacek. I never have. We have a laugh, I enjoy his company on the _rare_ occasions that I see him - and that’s _all_.”

Freddie fixed his husband with a wet red-eyed gaze, his chest aching. “When I flirt,” he said firmly, though his voice was softer now, “- when I _fuck -_ that’s all it _ever_ is. It’s shallow. It’s _nothing_.” Freddie stared at Ephram pleadingly, trying to will him to understand. “And that’s the way I _want_ it, love. Because they, whoever they are, aren’t _you._ And I _hated_ the way that you seemed to want to make everyone whose bed you fell into feel as though it was all so bloody _significant_. _”_

“You _know_ there’s a difference between what I’ve asked for and what you’re saying now. I’ve never tried to keep you from Elena, or Perl, or anyone like that - what I’ve asked is for you to keep emotion out of it. I’ve asked for you to treat them differently than you do me - _because it’s different_. Because you _love_ me.”

Freddie’s eyes widened into a painful sort of disbelief. “Are you telling me now that that’s too much? That you resent me for it?”

“For Chrissake, Freddie!” Ephram turned on the bed to stare at his husband in disbelief, feeling a pang of love for the fairy even through his anger. “No, I don’t fuckin’ resent you, and no, it wasn’t too much for you to ask. That’s what you needed and I said I’d do it for you, and it ain’t no pain for me. But what you’re doing, that _is_ hypocritical. I never felt nothin’ for Ash, you know that – all that flirting was just that, just flirting. To get him in bed and nothin’ else apart from that.”

He took a deep breath, then held his hands out in front of him in a pacifying gesture. “I know this is the shittiest time to do this,” Ephram said miserably, “I know that, and I’m sorry bout it, honey. It ain’t that your being scared don’t mean nothin’ to me – God, I’m scared too – maybe it’s just that I’m this fuckin’ petty. I dunno.”

Ephram ran his hands through his hair, torturing it up into an untidy nest. “I just don’t understand why me flirting with somebody I didn’t know, who I had no intention of getting to know, is so much more a sin than you letting Nacek have you whenever he wants. That hurts me, Freddie.” Ephram’s hands clenched into upset fists, then opened again, the gesture repeating as he tried to keep from devolving into rants and accusations.

“Maybe I’m too dumb to see the difference. But I _never_ treat anybody the way I do you, Freddie. I’m sorry if it seemed that way, it never felt like it to me.” Thinking back to that night with Ash, Ephram still couldn’t parse what he’d done to convince Freddie that there was some sort of emotional connection between himself and the young naga (who’d likewise made it clear that this was a one-night-only hookup). “I didn’t feel nothin’ for him and I didn’t think I was being especially intimate. But you said it upset you, and I don’t want you to be hurt, so I said I’d work on being less _me_ if I’m about to fuck someone. And that’s fine, we gotta make changes for each other, I don’t resent you for that.”

Ephram’s shoulders slumped, somewhat deflated. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me for being’ upset you’re fucking somebody who’s known you longer’n I have – Jesus, how long _has_ he known you? – and you’re _also_ mad at me for apparently being bastard enough to treat random hookups the exact way I am with you. With the man I love.” Ephram shut his eyes, hands remaining curled tightly into fists. “You make me sound like a fuckin’ monster.”

“It’s the _way_ that you flirt!” Freddie shot back in frustration; hurt and miserable and hating that he was making Ephram feel the same way, but unwilling anymore to simply dismiss his own feelings as unimportant. “Like they hung the bloody moon! Like they’re the most wonderful thing in the world! And I _hate_ _it_ because _they_ think you that mean it! Or that you could! And that’s mine, Ephram. _You’re_ mine.”

“But you drifted through that party and never seemed to give me a second thought. I mean, I was busy rabbiting on to Grace and Alia about how much I bloody adore you, and every time I caught sight of you it looked for all the world like Ash bloody Caplan was the love of your sodding life!” Freddie stopped and put his face in his hands, taking a deep breath, and then another; getting control of himself before lowering them again and lifting his head. Biting his lip hard as Ephram apologised for choosing this particular moment to have this discussion; knowing that his husband was sincere - that Ephram didn’t really think freddie’s fear was of less consequence than his own hurt, or resentment, or whatever this was - but still wounded by it. Still stunned that somehow he was in the wrong again, and that _now_ was the time he should be taken to task for it. 

But still Freddie nodded. 

What else could he do?

“I know you’re scared, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and he opened his mouth to go on, but Ephram beat him to it; telling him that he was hurt over Freddie’s sleeping with Nacek, and confused by the way that Freddie had drawn his lines. And the fairy sighed heavily, listening first to his husband’s thinking before trying to explain himself again - though his own angry hurt flared bright again at the way Ephram said _‘…I’d work on bein’ less_ me _’._

“That’s a bloody cheap shot, Ephram,” Freddie said roughly, in spite of the low volume of his voice, “I’m mean, you say that I make _you_ out to be a monster, but you’re accusing me of wanting to change _who you are_? I can’t win, can I? If I _don’t_ tell you how I feel, then that’s wrong, and it’s damaging, but if I _do_ tell you, then that’s just as bad, because I’m selfish and irrational and trying to change you.”

Freddie looked at his beloved witch forlornly, feeling lost and untethered and wretched. “Do you have any idea how stupid I felt trying to get all that out to you? How hard it was for me to say the bloody words out loud?” He just stared for a moment, then looked down and rubbed his eyes, trying again. 

“I know that you don’t feel about anyone else the way you do about me, love,” he said quietly, “-and I know that to you all flirting is created equal to a certain extent… but do you remember what you told me that morning? About cramming an entire relationship into a single encounter because that’s all you thought you’d ever have? Well… _that’s_ the difference for me. Whether it’s a single serving or not, that’s _my_ relationship you’re handing out samples of. _My_ husband. _My_ life… _our_ life. And I don’t want to share it. Not even for the few minutes it takes for you to talk someone into bed, or the time it takes to make them cum.”

“And I know that that’s probably just me being small and selfish again, but I can’t help it. It _hurts_ me when you act as though you’ve got some starry-eyed crush on someone else - even if it’s only in the moment.”

“And I’m sorry that I hurt you, love. So sorry. Over Nacek or anything else.” Freddie got up on his knees and closed some of the distance between them - though he still didn’t reach for his husband, promising, “I won’t sleep with him again. Not if you don’t like it.”

“All you ever have to do is say the word, Ephram,” he said, “Because nothing means more to me than you do - and certainly not the likes of him. So if it hurts you, it stops - simple as. Whatever it is - if it hurts you, _it stops_.”

Freddie sighed again, aching and bewildered. “Have I really not shown you that yet?”

“Of course I’m yours,” Ephram said, his face tight with pain. “I only ever wanna be yours, Freddie, I thought you knew that. I dunno what all else I can do to prove that to you.” He listened, heart sinking, as Freddie railed on about how Ephram had supposedly acted besotted with Ash, wondering for the first time just what kind of inconstant shit-heel Freddie thought he was capable of being.

It wasn’t that Ephram thought himself a better person than that. He’d just hoped that Freddie did.

“I _do_ know,” Freddie said softly, wanting to reach out and smooth away the pain from Ephram’s features - but well aware that he looked the same way himself; that everything he was feeling was likely writ large across his eyes. “I just… get scared,” he went on in a barely audible voice. “Still. I get scared sometimes that I’m just not worth the bother. That I’m not worth anything at all… especially held up to anyone else.”

“And that isn’t about you, love,” the fairy added quickly, not wanting Ephram to think that any of this was a criticism or a judgment, “That’s me. It’s years worth of belief that I’m still chipping away at.”

“Belief,” he emphasised gently, “-that I’m only able to break down at all because of you, sweetheart.”

“But it ain’t about winning,” Ephram said, feeling defeat set in. “If you wanna feel like you’ve won, that’s fine, I don’t care. And I already said I’m fine with you changing me – Lord Almighty, Freddie, don’t you think I _want_ you to change me? That’s what being in a relationship is about! If you hadn’t changed me we wouldn’t even be here right now. I would of convinced myself that I didn’t deserve you and would of let Elizabeth shove me out of the way. Hell, the first time we met I wouldn’t of let myself feel the way I did, the way I felt like I wanted you in my life forever. Me, who forced myself to stop hoping for forever twenty years ago.”

Freddie huffed out a pettish breath when Ephram seized on the word ‘win’, shaking his head and muttering, “Honestly, you and bloody Iann are so flaming _literal_ sometimes. Fucking hell…”

“I don’t feel as though I have to _win_ , love,” he sighed, “It’s just a word; a stupid phrase. I only meant that I’m frustrated because… well…” Freddie shrugged uncomfortably, embarrassed almost by his own limitations; by his inability to be better yet than he was, “…because I’m still so bloody far behind. With this sort of thing, I mean. The sort of thing that everyone else seems like they were born knowing how to do, and I’m still just working out.” 

He looked up and met Ephram’s eyes; his own red-rimmed again, but dry, and full of contrition. “And I don’t want to let you down, sweetheart. I don’t want you to think that I’m not trying to be better. To _do_ better…”

“Because I want to change too, love. With you, and for you - even more than I already have done. I mean, it’s like you said, yeah? That’s what relationships _are_. That’s what it means to love someone and to want to spend your life with them - you change. Together.”

Ephram sighed, shakily. “Okay. I know what I told you bout cramming a whole relationship into one encounter,” he said quietly, “and I meant that, it’s true. But honey, it ain’t still how I work. You can’t keep on being angry with me over Ash when before that, we didn’t have the same rules. And you’re obviously still angry.”

Which was even more upsetting, because Ephram didn’t yet trust that Freddie would tell him if he was angry about things. And to Ephram, sometimes it seemed that when Freddie worked up the courage to talk about his feelings, that effort meant that what he told must never be disputed or critiqued. He understood that it was hard for his fairy to talk, really he did, but it was a delicate dance that Ephram didn’t know if he had the grace to execute. 

He seemed to hurt Freddie whenever he brought up any objections, and hurting Freddie was unacceptable. Even from himself.

For a moment, Ephram thought he’d uttered that last thought aloud; but then he realized it was Freddie, apologizing for hurting Ephram and promising that he never wanted to do that, voicing what Ephram had been thinking.

Freddie raked a hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck - a fidget picked up from Ephram himself - before letting out a soft exhalation of breath. “But I’m not angry over Ash, Ephram - whatever it may look like, I’m not. I’m angry with myself for having felt threatened when I _know_ that I shouldn’t. By Ash, or Ciara, or anyone else. And I’m angry that I can’t seem to express myself properly to explain to you why those feelings can still crop up, even when I know it’s never your intention to make me feel anything other than loved and secure.”

“But… just for the sake of clarity though, sweetheart… I really _haven’t_ felt that way _since_ then. Not since we talked, yeah? You’ve made those changes for me, and I _do_ see them, love. I appreciate them. You just asked for the difference between Ash and Nacek… so I was explaining. As best I could.”

The fairy shrugged again, embarrassment creeping in at the edges once more. “But you know that I don’t like feeling helpless or out of control… and when it comes to talking about my emotions, that’s _always_ a bit how I feel - which doesn’t help. So when you try to ask me more about them, or explain your perspective…” Freddie worried a bit at his lower lip, “…I just dig my heels in and make everything worse.”

“And I’m sorry for that, love,” he said softly, “I’m sorry that I only ever realise it after the fact, too.”

Closing the small space between them, Ephram shoved his head against Freddie’s collarbone, curled down against his husband’s broad chest and grasping at him to keep them pulled as close as possible. “’m sorry, Freddie,” Ephram mumbled, heart pounding. “It’s making me stupid. Adjaye, I mean.” He screwed his eyes shut, breath making a damp patch on Freddie’s shirt. “I’m scared he’ll take you away from me, one way or another. Either he’ll steal you, or…” Ephram clutched tighter at his fairy. “Don’t be mad, but I’m scared you might could go back to him.”

When Ephram pushed closer, holding Freddie tightly and hiding his face against the fairy’s chest, Freddie nearly sagged with relief, clutching his husband to him with all the strength that he had; not wanting to ever have to let him go - and only belatedly realising that Ephram was apologising again. This time about Martin, and what he feared might happen if the vampire were genuinely reaching out.

About what he feared Freddie _might do_.

And it all but broke the fairy’s heart.

“Oh, love,” Freddie breathed, shaking his head though his witch couldn’t see it, and tightening his grip to the point that it was almost painful - likely for both of them. “No. _No_. Not ever. I will _never_ leave you willingly, Ephram. I couldn’t.”

“ _You_ are my whole world, sweetheart,” he murmured, rocking gently and trying to soothe the man in his arms, “I can’t be without you. I just- …it would kill me, love. I honestly think that it would. I belong to _you_ \- not Martin Adjaye, or anyone else. _You_ are the man that I choose; now and forever.”

“You don’t let me down,” Ephram said, calmer now that Freddie was squeezing him uncomfortably tight (it was soothing – Ephram didn’t know why, but it helped). “And you _are_ doing better, in changing with me I mean. I’m right proud of how far you come in regards to opening up with me bout how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking.”

He lifted one hand to tap his fingers lightly along the magical green collar that he could feel but not quite see, hidden behind Freddie’s glamouring. Reminding himself with both touch and Freddie’s promises that yes, it was true, Freddie belonged to him and wasn’t going to go back to Adjaye, if it was him.

“It ain’t that I think you’d desert me for just anybody, understand,” Ephram said, about to sit up so he could look at Freddie but then changing his mind. It was easier to have his face hidden when he continued, “…I know what it’s like to go back to a situation that ain’t good for you, is all. Hell, I didn’t even have no illusions bout what was between me and Otis Jenkins, and I _still_ went back to him time and time again. So I reckon it could be hard for you to refuse that damn vampire.” 

He did sit up then, gaze haunted by the memory of what he’d done to himself going back to Otis Jenkins once they were both out of prison, what he’d put himself in the path of and the abuse he'd recreated again and again, and took Freddie’s face in his hands. “I don’t wanna see you fall victim to that sort of thinking, is what,” Ephram said, fierceness returning to his voice. “When I hear you say you worry bout whether or not you’re worth loving, whether you’re worth _anything_ , it takes me right back to how I felt when I’d seek Otis out. And that makes me so scared for you, honey. My darlin’ Freddie.”

Freddie was silent as Ephram spoke; just absorbing his witch’s quiet reassurances that he was, in fact, making strides forwards in the way that he wanted to be. Comforted to hear that Ephram was proud of him for it, and slowly relaxing his grip until it was simply firm and no longer viselike. And when Ephram went on to compare Martin with his own Otis Jenkins, apt as it was, the fairy drew in a long slow breath and nuzzled gently into Ephram’s hair, just wanting to be surrounded by him for a moment. To soothe himself with his husband’s presence.

“It could have been hard, I think,” he admitted softly when he raised his head again, “Once.”

“If Martin had come to me before I’d met you, and applied himself to talking me back again, there’s a very good chance that he might have been successful, yeah…” Freddie frowned, more than a little disgusted with himself for the ugly truth of that. “Manipulating me wasn’t exactly hard for him, after all - and he’d still have known which buttons to push.”

“But as you say, sweetheart,” Freddie went on, his face still held gently between Ephram’s big calloused hands, “-that was _then._ And things are very different _now_.”

“Now, I know what love actually looks like…” the fairy murmured as Ephram pulled him into his arms, “…I know what it feels like when it touches me.”

“Yeah,” Ephram agreed, soothed by the feel of his husband’s weight, his sturdy well-muscled body, “knowing what love feels like changes a whole lotta things for the better. For the more life-affirming, that’s for damn sure.” Ephram embraced his fairy again, and murmured with a little wryness, “–and don’t think you don’t take shit literally too, kitten. The way you jumped all over how I said ‘friend’ to describe somebody you’s friendly with, which is apparently a huge distinction, you got no room to be literally casting stones.” 

Freddie huffed out a gentle snort of shaky laughter when it was pointed out that he had no business casting aspersions on literal-mindedness, given his own strenuous differentiation between the terms ‘friendly’ and ‘friends’. “Believe me, darling,” he said, his voice turning a bit rueful, “-when you spend most of your life _without_ friends, the difference between the two is enormous…”

“But you’re right,” he conceded with a small almost-smile, not wanting to bicker over pedantry, “-I’m every bit as bloody-minded as you are. So I take back my grumbling. My glass house is just as fragile as everyone else’s.”

Chuckling at Freddie’s acquiescence to his gentle scolding, Ephram pressed a kiss to the fairy’s rabbit-soft brown hair and lingering there. “I know, sweetheart,” Ephram murmured, “and it tears me up to think of how lonely you was, growing up and facing the world all on your own – you and Ollie. If anybody’s deserving of friends, and good ones, it’s you, kitten.” Ephram harrumphed a little, shouldering against Freddie. “How else d’you think I manage to stand that weasel Cardero?”

 _A good friend, unless you got a jewel implanted in you he wants to slice you open for_ , Ephram thought snidely, but he kept that one to himself. He paused, going back to speaking more seriously. “I sure am glad you ain’t angry over Ash or Ciara no more. I could never feel bout anybody else the way I feel for you, Freddie Watts. And it ain’t like I ever hold back on showing you how much.”

Freddie followed his husband back to seriousness with a nod of his head. “I know, love,” he said, his voice low, but sure, and his gaze steady, as Ephram spoke of his love for him, and his willingness to express it, “I get stupid sometimes - but I know.”

“Well, since I get stupid too, let’s say we cancelled each other out, huh?” Ephram cuddled Freddie some more, pulling them both to lie down again and let their physical closeness make up for the emotional drain of both the situation with Martin and the quarrel Ephram had started at such an inopportune time. “Listen. I know it was wrong of me to have this fight now, baby–” He worked his fingers through Freddie’s hair, smoothing it behind his pointed ear and then, of course, giving in to his usual compulsion to stroke the shell of that pointed ear, “–no matter how much we needed to have it out. I swear I ain’t got nothin’ else to ambush you with, okay? We can focus on the more pressing concern we got.”

Freddie’s lips quirked into a small indulgent smile as Ephram carped about Iann - the fairy having long since accepted that his husband and his best mate and business partner would never have any use for one another on a personal level - and he huffed out a bit of a chuckle. “As a general rule, I don’t seem to do terribly well when it comes to friends, love,” he said in a quiet voice, his smile taking on a faint air of resignation, “-so I appreciate very much that you’re willing to tolerate the one that I’ve got.” 

Freddie pressed a kiss to his darling’s cheek. “Iann’s an irascible git, I know - but he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash this morning when I turned up on his doorstep to heave my problems into his lap; he just started brainstorming.”

And the fairy smiled again when Ephram seemed content to call their argument done and dusted - both sides right and wrong in equal measure; each of them as bad as the other when it came to bursts of emotion. And when his witch pulled him down onto the bed again, Freddie was grateful to go. He felt shaky and wrung out - and it was only once they’d cuddled close again, wrapped up tight together, that the fairy felt some of those jangling nerves begin to still. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the tender ministrations of Ephram’s fingers ground him - then opened them again to meet his husband’s gaze. Blue on blue.

“You could have picked a better moment, yeah,” Freddie agreed softly, “-but I think you’re right, love: it needed saying. We should have talked more about it; not just assumed after one conversation that we both understood things the same way.”

“Because I mean what I’ve said, sweetheart,” the fairy murmured, gently tugging at the gold of his husband’s beard, “- if something hurts you, it stops. And that’s that. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

“…and as far as this mess goes,” Freddie went on after a moment, back to Martin, his voice sounding slightly harried again as he let out a sigh, “I just…it’s all just fucking _surreal_. And I hate it.”

“Was it just one conversation?” Ephram was surprised at Freddie’s reminder. “Good Lord, no wonder we got it all tangled up. We overestimated our psychic powers.” Laughing in a huff of breath, Ephram turned onto his back and pulled Freddie against his chest. 

“Thanks,” he murmured. “For saying you ain’t gonna fuck Nacek no more. I just – I mean, I ain’t a jealous man, but I’m in the same place you are, honey, when it comes to you being with certain folks. And the Wawel Dragon’s one of em, I reckon.”

Suddenly tired of it, Ephram didn’t pursue the topic, hoping that Freddie wouldn’t either, and instead wrapped his arm tighter around his husband. Freddie felt so warm, soft skin over hard muscle, and Ephram felt a different sort of fondness come over him. He kissed his fairy slowly, tasting him in gentle, searching swipes of his tongue as he ran one hand down Freddie’s side and up to the hinge of his wings under his shirt. “Let me make love to you,” Ephram said, nose ruffling Freddie’s brown hair.

Freddie couldn’t help but smile when Ephram laughed at their oversight; comforted by the way that their quarrel had been talked through and overcome, and by the warmth of his husband’s arms around him, and the steady beloved thump of his witch’s heart. 

Slowly, the fairy was unlearning his bone-deep fear that arguments and bad feelings and criticism would inescapably yield terrifying and heartbreaking results; Ephram having patiently led him through the tangled bramble of his own insecurities time and again, after the dust of a row had settled - and now he could breathe easier in the face of conflict, knowing that his sweetheart’s love for him was in no way weakened for it. 

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart,” Freddie said softly, lifting his head to look his husband in the eye, “I know exactly what that feels like… that horrid hateful jealous insecurity… and I’m sorry that I ever made you feel it.”

He could see how much Ephram didn’t want to get further into the topic though - and in all honesty, neither did he. After all, they knew each other more than well enough to speak through looks and touches and soft presses of lips instead.

“I won’t do it again,” Freddie said firmly. “Not with Nacek, or Iann, or… or anyone else who makes you uncomfortable, love.”

And then he let the subject drop, settling down onto Ephram’s chest again and melting into the strength of his witch’s embrace. Feeling ragged and tired - but whole and secure.

And Ephram’s kisses, when they came, were very very welcome.

The fairy opened his mouth to them, moaning softly at the feeling of his husband’s hands on him; the taste of his lover’s tongue, and the gently urging question. “Please, sweetheart, ” he murmured, nodding his head and already reaching for Ephram’s buttons. “Yes please.”

Ephram hummed in pleasure at Freddie’s honey-sweet acquiescence, his pretty husband’s pliant requests to be made love to. He let Freddie undress him, taking his turns to do the same; off came Freddie’s shirt, the crisp, expensive fabric peeled off slowly, savouringly. He kissed the skin that came bare, fragrant and fresh; unlike Ephram, Freddie never smelled like he’d done a long day’s work – his cologne, like his clothing, forever clean and pristine. 

For Ephram, long since accustomed to the familiarity of sweat and close quarters, this trait of Freddie’s was nothing less than entrancing, intoxicating almost. 

The only times Freddie smelled differently, more raw and primal and wet, deliciously oily, was after he’d been fucking. And God – did Ephram ever love that he had a part in that. 

He scooped a hand under Freddie’s body to unfurl those incredible wings, licking along the top ridge of one, sucking at the quivering tip of it. “These wings of yours are part of what hoooked me from the day we met, y’know,” Ephram murmured, his voice humming the delicate tissues. “Once I saw em I knew I’d never be able to get enough of em. Or the beautiful man who owned em.”

They undressed each other slowly, reverentially; marking their progress with soft kisses and gentle caresses. Lingering over beloved familiar flesh as though making up for a long time apart. Reveling in the taste and feel of one another; in the heady joy of lovemaking at its most literal and intimate distillation. And when Ephram’s hand went to his wings, urging them out, Freddie shuddered lightly, pleasure shivering through him as he unfolded them and spread them wide to be touched; his eyes fluttering momentarily shut, lips parting, as he drew in a long tremulous breath at the warm wet perfection of his husband’s mouth - the sweet teasing softness of Ephram’s tongue - on such sensitive skin. The transparent gemstone membrane gleaming in the low early morning light of the room.

His cock swelling between his legs, wings nearly throbbing now with slow pulsing pleasure, Freddie moaned, turning his head to look at Ephram through heavily-lidded eyes; blue irises rapidly losing the battle with his wide-blown pupils. “It had been so long since I’d been touched that way…” the fairy breathed, “…always glamouring them away for marks. But when you saw them, the way that you looked at me…”

“…the way that you touched me, sweetheart…”

Freddie ran his hands down Ephram’s back, slow and possessive, savouring the heat of him; that long lovely expanse of pale skin and firm working muscle. “I wanted you so much, Ephram. You all but shone in the dark, and I wanted you more than anything else…”

“I still do. I always do…”

Nosing down against Freddie’s hair again, Ephram murmured, “Good. Because even though I knew we wanted each other…I never imagined I’d end up making that beautiful man my husband.”

The word ‘husband’, spoken softly in Ephram’s warm burnt-sugar and bourbon drawl as he looked into Freddie’s eyes, the two of them sharing breath, noses touching - the wonderful strength of that word between them, the depth and the power of the love that infused it - coaxed another moan from between Freddie’s lips. Ephram touched the tip of his nose to Freddie’s, gazing into his fairy’s blue eyes before kissing those lovestained lips, imagining that they tasted as cherry as their colour. The fantasy was so intense that Ephram gave a little overwhelmed, wanting moan against Freddie’s tongue, his hands coming up to hold either side of Freddie’s neck, fingers sprawling and overlapping at the back of the fairy’s skull.

Still, Ephram didn’t speed up his kisses or touches. It was unusual for the two of them to go as slowly as this, both habitually hungry for each other and greedy to get what they wanted; but this time, Ephram wanted to take his time with Freddie. To sift luxuriously through every sensation, every tender intimacy. “You make my life one I’m proud of,” Ephram said, in between kisses. “ _You_ do that, baby.”

Ephram kissed him again, slow and deep, and the witch’s own echoing sound sent a throb of sweet aching want radiating through the fairy’s entire body. He let out a soft little mew of contentment as Ephram’s hands came up to cradle his neck, holding him gently, his own hands stroking Ephram’s sides, feeling almost drunk somehow; his senses overwhelmed. Everything still so slow, so deliberate. Every action weighted and all the more wonderful for its languor.

And when Ephram told him - between long honey-dripped kisses; close enough that Freddie could feel and taste each softly rumbled syllable as well as hear it - that the fairy made his life something to be proud of, Freddie felt his chest get tight, his heart almost painfully full of love for the man in his arms, for the beautiful thing that he’d found, that they’d made together; and he closed his eyes again, butting his face gently against Ephram’s cheek, nuzzling him softly before taking his darling’s lips again.

“I love you,” he whispered into Ephram’s mouth, “There aren’t even words for how much.”

“I’ll never forget it, how you let me see your wings, let me touch em even though we’d only just met, how much trust that took.” Ephram’s gaze traveled Freddie’s face as though the fairy was a figure study, something necessary to memorize, a man’s final sight of beauty before going blind. How was it possible to feel the intensity of that first meeting even after two years together? It was as if they’d never moved past that moment, and at the same time they’d managed to learn and grow and form a relationship.

Ephram had never imagined how good it could be. He’d loved Marigold, he’d loved Ruby; but until Freddie, Ephram hadn’t known how profoundly he needed a partner like him in order to progress in his life. Somebody who would gently guide Ephram away from the precipice of the darkness that had a hold on him, who wasn’t as prone to it as he was. Ruby, bless her, had been in the same boat and the two of them might have capsized each other unwittingly, given the time and enough rope.

He never felt that way with Freddie, though. His fairy might only be able to contain one emotion comfortably at a time, but they were generally positive emotions. Encouraging ones. Or ones that prompted Ephram to step up and be a better man than he thought he was capable of being.

“I’m gonna make sure you’ll always be touched that way, kitten,” Ephram vowed, moving to kiss and nibble along Freddie’s jawline to his favourite place, one of those puckishly pointed ears. “Like you’re the most precious thing in my life. Most precious on earth, even.” Freddie was warm and pliant when Ephram spread him out on the bed, nosing and kissing along his husband’s defined chest and abs with small murmurs of admiration.

“Lookit all this,” he said. “So pretty, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous, and you do it all for me, right? Ain’t nobody you want to enjoy you as much as I do. And I _do_ , Freddie, darlin.” Ephram paused, chin against Freddie’s hip, to gaze hotly up at him with love flickered in passion. “In every goddamn way, I enjoy you, I cherish you, I want you.”

There were certain things, certain endearments, certain expressions of love, when spoken by his husband, that would always provoke a particular sort of vulnerability, and aching joy, in Freddie - and Ephram was currently right in the thick of them.

Because there was nothing the fairy wanted more for himself than to be the most precious thing in Ephram’s life. Nothing better than to hear and to know, to feel and believe, that his witch wanted, needed, cherished him. That Ephram loved Freddie with the same ferocity, the same devotion, that Freddie loved him - and that what they had was unbreakable and constant. That it couldn’t be lost or taken away.

And Freddie let out a soft needy groan as Ephram’s kisses travelled, the warm gusts of his darling’s breath and the velvet brush of his lips making the fairy writhe where he lay; breaking out in a sensitised sort of gooseflesh, his nipples hard and his cock thick and rosy, the head slick with arousal and a blissful kind of desire. Hands gentle but greedy as his husband worked his way lower; loving that look in his witch’s eyes.

“Course it’s for you…” Freddie breathed, fingertips dragging lightly through Ephram’s hair, “ _Everything_ is for you.”

“You’re the only one who matters, sweetheart - and I’m so glad that you know that…”

Freddie gazed down at Ephram, eyes dark and soft, and reached for him again, trying to encourage him back up into his arms.

In no hurry, not wanting to rush… but wanting him closer.

Wanting him everywhere at once.

Ephram moved back up easily, wanting all that sweet intimacy that Freddie also seemed to be craving. They weren’t really the types to put some sort of higher premium on _lovemaking_ as compared to _fucking_ , both holding their own rightful appeal and need, but right at this moment it was the softer, sticky, honeyed version of love that they were both after. Ephram could see it in Freddie’s loving blue eyes, in the slow movements of his wings, in the measured need of his breathing,.

Planting a kiss on Freddie’s hip, Ephram dragged the tip of his nose up along his darling’s side and across his chest, finding the pulse point in Freddie’s neck and nuzzling there, where the scent of him was warm and deep. “

I do know it,” he rumbled. “You make _sure_ I know it, every damn day. And I love you more’n I can tell you for it.”

His own cock was filled too now, but not so urgently that Ephram couldn’t spend some time just holding and kissing his fairy until Freddie’s lips were swollen from the attention, their mouths soaked in the taste of each other and their moans and sighs. Holding himself up with his arms braced against the bed, pressed against Freddie’s biceps, Ephram let his cock slip into the groove of Freddie’s hip and gave a few strokes, closing his eyes and kissing his partner again.

“I’m never gonna get tired of this,” he murmured, drunk on their closeness. “Of being’ able to touch you and love you and fuck you, honey, you’re like manna from heaven to me.” 

He was painting wet streaks over Freddie’s hip, Ephram could feel them, and he slowed and stopped. Not wanting to cum yet, and not wanting to rush this. “Christ. To think so many fuckin’ fools had a chance to be loved by you and didn’t grab onto you fast as they could.” Ephram gave a little derisive snuffle, one that sounded peculiarly like Ollie.

“Oh well. Their loss and my eternal gain.”


End file.
